A clown’s thoughts come full circle
Cirque du Soleil’s ‘Corteo’ teaches us to fly
The best Cirque du Soleil productions are the most humanistic.
The 13-year-old “Corteo” is one of them, although the restaged, touring arena version at the Toyota Center through Sunday lacks the intimacy of the popular company’s tent shows. The audience sees right through the action since the linear stage, set up as a two-sided proscenium, is open on both sides.
No fantastical backdrop immerses viewers in the spectacle, although Jean Rabasse’s magnificent transparent scrims, inspired by an Adolphe Willette painting from 1885, greatly enhance the festive atmosphere.
“Corteo” is inspired by a joyful Italian procession, or cortege; so the linear sensibility of the stage works in that regard. The turntable at the center depicts a labyrinth inspired by the Chartres Cathedral — a symbol of infinity that underscores the cycles-of-life theme conjured by creator and director Daniele Finzi Pasca and costume designer Dominique Lemieux. (The idea comes, well, full circle even with some of the stunts.)
The Fellini-meets-commedia dell’arte procession unfolds as a march toward death for Mauro the Dreamer Clown. As the frustrated ringmaster Mr. Loyal bellows at one point, scolding rambunctious performers, “This is a funeral!”
Mauro, spewing gibberish in Italian much of the time, is on his deathbed, revisiting memories, sometimes earthbound and sometimes viewing the action from above, where angels fit him awkwardly with wings. His narrative is woven into Cirque’s trademark array of acrobatic and aerial acts during which dazzlingly vital humans perform somewhat inhuman feats.
Corteo’s highlights include a dynamic “Cyr Wheel” dance by a strong woman, Botakoz Bayatanova, and four strong men —Dzmitry Labanau, Slava Pereviazko, Harvey Donnelly and Shaun Gregory.
Bayatanova thrills again with Oleksandr Kunytskyi in the tender but daredevilish “Duo Straps” aerial dance. (They provide what feels like a real “Romeo and Juliet” moment after a chaotic “Teatro Intimo” skit that gets too absurd to mean anything.)
Pereviazko impresses again, too, atop a ladder as he woos an angel. Stephanie Ortega displays beautiful, tensile strength in the “Suspended Pole” solo, and hula hooper/ contortionist Sante D’Amours cheerfully twirls hoops on her limbs at once. (In the era of the #MeToo movement, however, some viewers might look askance at the objectification of women in both the “Suspended Pole” and “Chandeliers” aerial dance, both of which contain a lot of sexy come-ons.)
One of the most sublime bits is the most subtle, when the characters on stage appear oblivious to an upside-down “tightrope” walk, an illusion, really, involving a laserlike line of blue light.
A diverse bunch of endearingly human actors balance all the physical perfection, including Mauro (Mauro Mozzani), the Clowness (Anita Szentes) and the Giant Clown (Victorino Lujan); and charming, talented musicians led by Roger Hewett and singer Alain Labrie.
And ultimately, it’s the least likable character of all — Mr. Loyal, the angry ringmaster— who comes across as the most poignant, when he whistles a farewell to Mauro. Sean Lomax whistles so virtuosically he seems part bird, part angel and part searing violin.
After acrobats have bounced high into the air from big beds, careened gracefully across the sky, done somersaults from teeterboards and swung swiftly around horizontal bars, he shows us how people can fly from within.